


Now That You're Bleeding

by Midnight_Masquerade



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Loneliness, Missing Scene, Post-Canon, Pre-Series, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sister-Sister Relationship, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Masquerade/pseuds/Midnight_Masquerade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa discovers early on that her powers can give her everything she thinks she deserves, though the consequences may be a little more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It just Can't

**Author's Note:**

> Finally putting up here after writing it almost a year ago. This starts out as a series of snapshots, then evolves into a more connected story after it leaves the events of canon behind.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR DISCUSSION OF DEPRESSION, SELF-HATRED, SUICIDAL IDEATION AND DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF-HARM.
> 
> Reviews and concrit always welcome.

By the time her coronation arrives, Elsa has forgotten what hope feels like.

She knows she knew, once upon a time. As wrecked with guilt as her child self had been on That Day, she'd fostered sparks of hope that she _could_ learn; that one day her powers would be under control, would be safe. One day she would explain everything to Anna, and they would play again, just like they had before. After all, she'd had a natural knack for geometry from the very first time she'd picked up a book on the subject. How different could this be?

Weeks had passed. Then months. Then one day she had looked up to find it had been almost two years, and she had gotten nowhere. Every footfall still brought forth splays of frost across the floorboards, every sudden gesture sent ice shooting out in all directions. And still, her nights were haunted by the sight of a lock of white hair and her sisters crumpled body.

She'd long ago lost count of the number of times she had screamed herself awake, beginning her past self to stop.

Not long after, she'd realised that it would never get better. The image of the bright, Anna-filled future that had supported her for so long had withered and turned to ash in her mouth, and suddenly she could no longer bare to look at herself in the mirror. In a fit of rage she'd wrenched it from the wall and hurled it to the ground, watched it shatter across the icy floor into a thousand fragments.

For a long, silent moment she'd stared down at the shards, light dancing off the jagged edges. How easy it would be, she'd thought to herself, to simply fall to her knees in the midst of her carnage, to land heavily on the broken glass and feel it rip through the thin material of her dress and tear her skin, to be aware of the blood seeping through onto the floor. It would look like an accident, mama and papa would never have to know. God knows it's far less than she deserved...

The door had chosen that moment to burst open, and the bubble was broken. Suddenly shaken, Elsa pretended she'd knocked into the mirror, stood silently as a servant was called to deal with it. The only though on her mind was _did I really mean that?_

She didn't have to wait long to find out the answer. Because shortly after that the snow had fallen, and Anna had come calling once more.

The mere sound of her sister's voice had been enough to fling her into a downward spiral of guilt, but then she'd heard the age old plea of “do you want to build a snowman?” and her head was filled with the memories of That Day. Before she knew it she was on her knees, tears leaking from her eyes and the temperature in the room dropping rapidly. She could feel the ghosts of all her mistakes baring down on her, yelling curses and hurling insults. _How could you Elsa?_ They'd cried, _How could you be such a monster? Your own sister. You don't deserve her, you never deserved her, just like you don't deserve mama and papa. How do you live with yourself?_

She'd clamped her hands over her ears and screamed at Anna to go away, to leave her alone. She did, her footsteps moving in the half-shuffle that she always moved in when she was upset. Elsa had realised that not even here, locked away behind closed doors, was Anna safe from her. Her breathing had become shallow and rapid, thoughts spiralling off on an uncontrollable tangent of _what on Earth do I do I can't control this I can't control any of this how can I be so pathetic_ , her mounting terror swirling around her in a storm of razor-sharp hail. She'd fought to get herself under control, but had only succeeded in making the tempest more violent. _Is there nothing I can do?_

Suddenly a frozen flake had whipped sideways, slicing across her cheek. She'd fallen backwards in alarm, one hand rising to inspect the wound and coming away smeared with red. For a moment she'd stared down at the droplets of blood in surprise. Then a savage voice whispered inside her head _good, you deserve it_ , and all she could remember was that summer day when she'd broken the mirror. She'd realised that she really _had_ meant it.

Shakily, she'd clambered to her feet and mustered up all her strength, focussing it on directing the gale around her. After several minutes of breathless struggle, another shard flew across, opening a second gash on her face, just below the first. Then another. Then another. Before long Elsa had been hunched in the middle of the room, pounding herself with hail, tearing her clothes and scoring grazes and cuts all along her arms and torso. She'd stung and burned all over, but the voice at the back of her head kept on whispering words of encouragement, reminding her over and over of everything she'd done that warranted the assault. It had hurt, but oh it had felt good to finally get what had been coming to her for so long.

Sometime later, her willpower had run out and she'd sunk to the floor, panting and sweaty. She'd inspected herself – most of the cuts were shallow, hardly anything, but a few had managed to draw blood. The room had become calmer as tiredness crept into her senses, the storm fading away. For the first time in living memory, Elsa hadn't cried herself to sleep.

It had been so easy to hide from mama and papa. Even before, she'd never let them come near her, for fear of hurting them the way she'd hurt Anna. They never saw the battered skin beneath her dresses.

That was probably what made it so easy to continue.

As the years passed she discovered new ways to damage herself. She turned her powers inwards and tore at herself as though she could break free from her useless, pathetic body and sore away into the ether where there was no one to ruin. She often wondered what it would be like – lying on her bed in the dark with blood trickling down her arm or her leg – to not be bound the world, to know oblivion. And sometimes, just sometimes, she craved it.

 


	2. Put On a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coronation Day - the day Elsa can no longer hide from the world, and she is as far from ready as she could possibly be.

Elsa stands in front of the mirror in her underwear, staring down at her bare torso. The latter years of her life are mapped out in the abrasions peppering her pale skin – the grazes that the worst days had brought in their wake; the constellation of pockmarks left from the icicles driven into her calf the day mama and papa had died; the patch of irreparably ice-burned skin on her hip that marked Anna's 16th birthday. Hallmarks of her continual failure as a daughter and a sister.

And now, in barely 12 hours, they would be signalling her failure as a queen.

Elsa glances out of the window and sees the sun climbing ceaselessly into the sky, bringing in the day that she's been dreading for longer than she can remember.

She takes a deep breath and lays her palms on the smooth surface of the mirror, bracing her nerves, tension curling in her shoulders. For several seconds there is nothing except the sound of laboured breathing in the half darkness. Then the glass frosts over beneath her fingers, spreading outwards and obscuring her reflection. Elsa drops her hands, eyes welling up in frustration. _My whole life_ , a voice in the back of her head whispers, _The only thing that's ever mattered, and how have I handled it?_

Outside her bedroom she hears footsteps and muttered conversation. Servants up early to prepare for this special day, to make the castle perfect for all the guests that would soon be spilling through the gates. _Waiting for a glimpse of their beautiful queen_ , Elsa thinks to herself bitterly. _Just a projection of their expectations. I hope they like her_.

Everybody wanted their future queen, their kind and graceful ruler. Nobody wanted Elsa. Even Anna had given up long ago.

_What do I expect? Why would anyone want anything to do with me?_

Elsa scrubs a hand wearily across her face and turns to the corner of the room where her coronation gown stands. For a while she is still, locked in a silent battle with herself, trying to keep her breathing measured and insisting that is was only a _dress_ for God's sake. But all she can think about is standing up in front of a crowd of fellow nobles in a few scant hours, more people than she'd ever faced at one time. How could she possibly hope to control herself when she couldn't even keep a lid on things when she was alone? _One wrong move_ , her spiralling thoughts whisper, _just one and it's all over_. Her head spins. Her chest suddenly feels too tight, the room too small. Elsa fists her hands in her hair and draws in a deep, ragged breath. She'd told herself she wouldn't, not today...

A high, melodic laugh from outside the room jerks her back to reality. It's quickly followed by the light patter of running footsteps flying past her door and down the main staircase.

Anna is awake.

It's like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. _Anna._ Elsa will have to face her today, there's no way around that. What will Anna think of her? If her eyes show even a fraction of the hatred and fear that she deserves, Elsa is sure she'd probably break down right there in the ballroom. It would be one punishment too far.

_Coward_ , her mind hisses at her.

Elsa realises that her resolution had been a futile one. Left up to her, she'll never make it through today.

She exhales shakily and sits cross-legged in the middle of the floor, deciding on an unmarked spot on her left shoulder. She thinks for a moment, then raises her hands, watching as white light forms between them and gives way to a thin sheet of glistening ice. She lets it hover for a moment, then jerks it towards herself. It slices a shallow cut across her shoulder that stings instantly. Elsa draws another shard from the air and sends it flying after the first one, gasping as it splits her skin. A thin droplet of blood collects just bellow her collarbone, but ice shards, Elsa has learned, never draw much blood. She attacks herself several more times, the cuts forming a criss-crossing pattern of red on her shoulder, the fragments melting away once they withdraw from her skin.

These moments are the only times she has any control over her magic.

Suddenly, there is a sharp rap on the door that causes Elsa to flinch in alarm.

“Ma'am? The ceremony will begin shortly.” a voice announces, and Elsa feels every muscle in her body go tense. Here she was: the end of the line.

“Thank you.” she calls back, only just keeping the tremor out if her voice, “I'll be out in a moment.” The voice disappears, and Elsa digs her nails into her fresh wounds to clear her head. A trickle of blood runs down one finger and her heart twists uncomfortably. At the start the cutting had been a punishment, a way of dealing out the retribution that was owed her.

Now that she's not sure what it is.


	3. Turn Away and Slam the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Broadway-esque show stopper - now matter how emowering - cannot undo a lifetime of self-loathing.

For the first time in her life, Elsa feels _powerful_.

The storm rages around her, shrinking the world down to the mountain top she stands on. Her magic surges through her body and out of her fingers, sparkling and crystallising and spinning through the air. Doing _exactly_ what she wants it to.

For what feels like hours Elsa whirls across the snowy peak, raising ice and crafting shapes out of the blizzard. With every shot she feels the last decade pouring out of her, every fuck-up she's ever made flying away on the wind.

Arandelle seems so far away. Anna seems so far away.

 _Anna_. She's finally free.

The thought almost makes Elsa laugh aloud; her baby sister is no longer in danger. The crowd of servants that passed quietly through the castle can now go about their duties without the threat of their mistress lurking around every corner. Arandelle will have a ruler it deserves.

A crystal palace ascends out of the earth, sealing Elsa in. For the first time in forever her powers have done the right thing – driven the monster away. For years she'd hidden herself away in the shadows, too cowardly to take the decisive move herself.

“ _Elsa...”_

She recalls the horror on her sister's face after she'd revealed herself, and for the briefest of moments her joy fades.

 _No!_ The voice in her head screams at her. She blows a flurry back into her face, feeling it sting her eyes and force it's way into her airways, clearing her head. _For the best_ , she reminds herself forcefully. _I've been lying to Anna for too long. She looked up to me and I let her... No more._

She wanders out on to the balcony and gazes off into the night. She can see the lights of her former home flickering in the distance. This is good. This is right. Out here all alone, there's no rules to obey, no one telling her what to do. No one left to hurt.

 _This is exactly where I'm meant to be._ Elsa laughs aloud, spinning around the main hall she'd fashioned for herself. It's done, _she's_ done spreading damage and ruining lives. _If only this had happened before mama and papa had died... they could have been free too..._

She stretches out her arms, feeling the pull of old scrapes and cuts on her skin – the remnants of an old life. No need for those punishments any more, she realises gleefully. Not now she's finally found her place.

She turns and sweeps away, slamming the ornate front door. The monster has been banished. Both she and Arandelle can finally rest easy.


	4. No Escape From the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of Anna visit to her sister finally push Elsa over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is potentially seriously triggery. Skip to the end notes for prior warning.

The tiny part of Elsa's brain that is still aware of her surroundings is sure that the walls are closing in on her.

She paces up and down the main hall, hands twisting together and fisting in her unruly hair as she struggles desperately to draw in a full breath. _You should have know_ , a voice whispers inside her head, _Were you really stupid enough to think that everything would be OK?_

She remembers the panic of Anna's unexpected arrival, the horror when she'd discovered what had happened to Arendelle. Oh God, her own home town... after that it was a blur of white and fear and her sister's voice cutting through her like a knife until – until...

Elsa falls to her knees in the middle of the hall, gasping for air. The image of Anna hunched on the ground, hand over her chest, burns behind her eyes. _I though this was over. I thought she was finally safe from me. I should have known she'd come looking, this is all my fault_...

A broken sob forces it's way out of her throat, her chest tightening. She wishes that Anna had never come here, that she'd had the sense to stay home where she belonged, to abandon the blind faith in her big sister that she'd carried foolishly for so long. But that was only a secondary consideration; what she truly wished for, longed for with every fibre of her being, was that she had no memory of that awful day from her childhood the first time she'd almost murdered Anna.

“ _You are lucky it was not her heart. The heart is not so easily fixed.”_

At the time the words had lit the sparks of hope in Elsa that she had fostered for so long. But now they come hurtling back, slapping her full across the face and blurring her vision with tears. The heart is not so easily fixed... she was a monster, but she wasn't a fool. Even in her panic, she'd seen exactly where she'd struck her baby sister.

The last time it had taken some serious magic to set things right. What would happen now? Elsa dug the heels of her palms into her eyes as if she could crush the images that span there. Anna would be OK, surely? Anna was sunshine and optimism and compassion and _life_. Anna never gave up on anything, not even her. She'd find a solution, she and the man who had accompanied her. She'd be cured, she'd be fine again, and at last she would understand that she was related to irreparable evil and everything would be the way it should be...

_No,_ The voice in her head told her, _Nothing is ever so simple. Especially when you're around to screw things up_.

Anna was going to die. The realisation hit Elsa like a 40 tonne block of ice, making her hands shake violently and all the breath disappear from the lungs in one gasp. Elsa clutched her head, the room spinning all around her.

_You're own sister_ , her mind hissed as sobs shook her entire body. It was right. Elsa had always known she was irretrievable, but she'd always seen Anna as the one constant, the single point of light in her endless pitch-black tunnel. She'd have done anything for her, without a second thought if only she'd been able.

Anna had never given up on her, and this is how Elsa repaid her.

The world crumbles into a thousand tiny fragments. The life of peaceful isolation, of observing Arendelle from a safe distance that Elsa had imagined for herself comes crashing down around her. There was no coming back from this. There would _never_ be any coming back from this.

Elsa's sleeve is rolled up and an ice shard is forming in the air before her conscious mind even registers that she's moving. She stops, staring down at her pale arm, and suddenly feels sick.

_Seriously?_ her mind sneers at her, _You think that's enough? You think an old habit can make up for the sins you've committed?_

The ice melts away into the air. Elsa's shoulders slump as she exhales, all the fury and the fear draining out of her, leaving nothing behind. Emptiness rises up inside her, an all-consuming vacuum that infests in Elsa's mind like nothing she's ever experienced before.

Nothing will ever be enough. Nothing...

Then it comes to her. Not as a flash of realisation or a tangible “eureka” moment. It simply slips into her mind as quietly and unobtrusively as a feather falling onto grass ( _Feathers. Grass. You remember those? They used to be all over Arandelle. Not any more, thanks to you._ ) She'd assumed that fleeing the city had been the decisive action that had been needed to make everyone safe. For the first time she realises that no, it hadn't been at all.

Why had she not figured this out before? It hardly matters now. Nothing matters now. She saw to that.

Elsa picks herself up off the floor and walks out to the top of the staircase. It had been barely a day since she'd fashioned it. So, so long ago, back in a different world.

She peers over the edge, down into the gaping abyss beneath the icy steps. She feels the pull deep within her, the urge to follow the chasm downwards and split apart on the valley floor and be lost forever.

She's almost amazed at how the thought comforts her.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself where she stands. _All those years of playing at self destruction. Are you finally ready for the real thing?_

It hardly mattered. Mama, papa, Anna, Arendelle. The world in which Elsa had a place was long gone. It was time she joined them. Would she get there before Anna? Or would her baby sister arrive on the other side to a complete family for the first time in years?

Elsa blasts away the waist-high railing and moves to the very edge, her toes hanging above oblivion. Her eyes fall shut. _Forgive me Anna._

“No.” Out of nowhere a deep voice resonates behind her, and the next second something has clamped around her waist and lifted her away from the ground. She twists around to find she is staring into the face of her snow-monster, the guardian she had conjured to chase away Anna.

“Let me go!” she cries, wriggling desperately in it's grasp.

“No.” it repeats, then turns and begins walking back into the castle.

Panic rises in Elsa once more. “Stop! No, let go of me, I have to–”

“No.”

Elsa shrieks in anger and frustration as she is set down back in the main hall and her snow-monster sits down in front of the door, caging her in. She rushes up to it, rage suddenly boiling inside her, and pummels at it uselessly. “I created you!” she screams, “You're meant to do what I say, now let me past!” The snow-monster stares down at her impassively. “Please! Please, just let me go, I have to do this, let me... let me...” her words are cut off as her eyes well up and her body is racked with sobs. The sudden burst of energy disappears as quickly as it had come, and she crumples on the floor, buries her head in her snow-monster's side and weeps. All the tears that she had forced herself not to cry throughout her life come pouring out of her in an unstoppable tidal wave, shaking her right down to the core and making her eyes burn.

“You stupid... you complete and utter...” she mumbles through the tears, no longer sure who she's talking to. For hours she remains curled on the floor while her body purges itself and her snow-monster sits passively by her side. Eventually she drains herself dry and falls into a fitful, disturbed sleep full of ice and golden hair and angry mobs. The world is broken, but Elsa is forced to remain in it.

Perhaps this was the final punishment. It sliced at Elsa more deeply than her magic had ever been able to – but really, she thinks to herself as she drifts into unconsciousness, wasn't this exactly what she deserved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *After hitting Anna in the heart and driving her away, Elsa is distraught enough to try and kill herself by throwing herself off the mountain. She is stopped last minute.


	5. Anna Has Not Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On being brought back to Arendelle and discovering that Anna has not been found, Elsa realises that their is only one course og action left to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter's triggers spill somewhat over into this chapter.

_My God. What have I done?_

Elsa gazes out of her cell window, speechless with horror at the scene that lay before her. Barely 24 hours ago Arandelle had been drenched in sunlight, adorned with the flowers of mid-summer and surrounded by the gentle, sparkling fjord. But now...

She'd thought that hearing Anna's account of it had been the worst imaginable thing. Only now does she see how wrong she was as heavy snow – _her_ snow – whooshes past the windows, making the harbour almost unrecognisable.

_I did this._

The full extent of the damage she's done settles on her for the first time, manifesting in a physical ache in her chest. This place had been her _home_ , no matter how little she had known it. _I played down in that harbour as a child_ , she thought to herself, _I spent years watching ships coming into port and doing trade. And now it's gone._

 _It's gone and there's nothing I can do_.

She lets slip a yell of frustration, yanking on the chains that bind her. Never before had she felt so useless, chained up and watching her own powers destroy the place she called home with no idea how to stop herself.

She had to get out, she realised. She had to get away. Her presence here would do no good and might just be making things worse. Locking her away was clearly not making anyone safer. _If only it were that easy._

She tugs fruitlessly on the chains again, desperately trying not to panic. She knew Arandelle far better than her captors, if only she could get out of her cell...

Suddenly Hans' words to her at her castle come back to her – _Don't be the monster they fear you are._ She glances out of the window once more at the torrent of white. Too late, far far too late. But if they still only feared what she was... perhaps her little sister wasn't dead quite yet. Surely reversing the winter would reverse Anna's injuries as well?

 _I have to get out of here._ She feels a renewed vigour at the thought of hope for Anna. _I've been hurting her for years. It's time to save her, even if only once._

Elsa was not an idiot, and ineffectually mastering one's powers leaves a lot of spare time in a day. Over the years she had read every book she could get her hands on that talked about magic and it's mechanics. Most dealt with such a subject as folklore and fairytale, but their conjecture had been detailed. How do you reverse a spell? You find a counter-charm, or you kill the caster.

Elsa didn't hold out much hope for the former. It hardly mattered. She had finally realised that Anna would never be safe from her while she was still around.

The door opens, and she whips around to find Hans entering her cell.

“Why did you bring me here?” she demands.

He moves closer and she has to resist the urge to flinch away. “I couldn't just let them kill you.”

 _Stupid, stupid! Don't you get it?_ She pleads with him desperately, imploring him to get Anna ( _If only I can talk to her, she'll understand, she'll do what needs to be done_ ) and to set her free ( _No good here, have to get out, have to get_ somewhere).

“I will do what I can.” he tells her, but his expression isn't hopeful as her leaves her.

Elsa turned her attention back to the window. Anna was still out there in who only knew what condition. She couldn't sit around waiting for her captors to realise that she was no good to them.

She tugs on her chains again, but to no avail. Her heart is thudding against her ribcage and she feels the already chilly room grow colder as her anxiety increases. _Every second I waste Anna is in more danger._

She glances down at her restraints to find they have frosted over, ice spreading across the metal. _Of course..._

Her powers can be helpful another time.

She screws her eyes shut and focuses all her energy in her hands, for once working on expelling her ice rather than restraining it. After so long the magic needs very little encouragement, and soon her gauntlets are submerged in an icy layer and creaking loudly. Elsa resumes her tugging in an effort to further weaken the damaged metal. The chains are resistant, designed to hold up against the most powerful assaults, but after several minutes Elsa begins to feel them give way.

Frost fans out from under her feet and climbs swiftly up the walls, but she ignores it, concentrating all her effort in her hands. She feels the familiar scrape of ice along skin, the memory of her previous dealings with ice burns making her damaged hip ache.

 _Good._ Something inside her whispers savagely, _Maybe if I ruin my hands my powers will have no way of getting out._

Suddenly she hears several pairs of footsteps from the corridor outside, swiftly followed by a hammering on the door. She redoubles her efforts on her chains, knowing if they catch her they'll try to stop her leaving. Her hands feel like they are on fire and her chest is heaving when suddenly there is a loud snap and she staggers backwards. The gauntlets clatter to the floor busted open.

Elsa takes a moment to recover her breath, then – spurred by the shouts on the other side of the door – she blasts the wall of her cell away and escapes into the blinding storm. Maybe if she got away the blizzard would follow her, leaving Arandelle calm. Then Anna could be found and got to safety and Elsa... Elsa would finally be the big sister she had always failed to be.

 _Hang in there, Anna_ , she thinks to herself as she staggers and gropes her way away from the castle. _I'm leaving you a better world. A safer world._


	6. A Frozen Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Act of True Love gives Elsa the answer she's been searching for.

_...Anna_.

Elsa stands frozen as she watches life flood back into her sister's body. The world zeroes in on the warm skin beneath her fingers and the golden hair suddenly gleaming in the harsh white light. The raised arm falls, and shoulders sag as a breath is released.

Anna is alive.

Elsa gazes up into her wide, startled eyes, and cannot stop herself from leaping forward and grabbing her in a fierce hug. A second later she feels thin arm wrap around her in return.

_My constant_ , Elsa thinks to herself dazedly, _The light at the end of my endless tunnel. You did it._

Of course she'd found a way to save herself. Anna never gave up, not even on her.

_Not even on me..._

Elsa finally registers what had happened in the seconds before Anna had frozen. She pulls back, gazing disbelievingly at her sister. “You... sacrificed yourself for me?”

Anna's round earnest face looks up at her. “I love you.” she tells her, as though it's the most obvious fact in the world.

_Oh Anna_ , Elsa gazes speechlessly at her, _You got all of mama and papa's goodness, didn't you?_

Suddenly she hears a gasp over Anna's shoulder, and she pears round to find Olaf, the spirit of her childhood gesturing excitedly at the two of them. “An act of true love will thaw a frozen heart.” he exclaims.

_Love will thaw. Love..._

Elsa gazes out at the icy wasteland around her, feeling something in the back of her mind click into place. _Love..._ All the times she'd had greatest control over her powers... times when she'd been acting to save Anna.

_Love_

Anna is looking at her, and Elsa realises that she's been voicing her thoughts aloud. She meets her sister's eyes and feels her face break into a wide grin.

“Elsa?” Anna's face is full of hope, and Elsa doesn't stop herself reaching out and grasping her sister's hands. She can save Arendelle, she realises, because Anna saved her. _You were always there for me. It's time I stopped running and started earning that trust._

She releases her sister, and steps backwards, remembering every time that they had laughed together as children and clutched each other for support whenever diplomatic affairs had called mama or papa away. _You were always there..._ All of her best memories were filled with Anna's smile and bright eyes, and even when Elsa's magic had forced them apart, Anna had refused to let her go.

She lets her sister fill her head as she throws her arms out and the snow around her starts to melt, giving way to the blues and greens and golds of summer. Finally she accepts the help that Anna had been anxious to give her for so long. _How could I ever have assumed I could do this without you? Stupid, so stupid._

Elsa almost laughs aloud at how her powers bend to her every whim – melting and thawing and parting to let the light of the sun bathe the city once more. She gathers it all together in the sky and banishes it with a flick of the wrist, hearing distant whoops and cheers from the shore.

Anna smiles at her and announces casually, “I knew you could do it.”

_Of course you did._ Elsa thinks as she tentatively opens her arms and Anna flies into them. _You could always see what I couldn't._

The sunlight makes both women squint as they make their way to shore, where the citizens of Arandelle are spilling out into the streets. Exclamations of joy and excitement surround them from all sides, along with cries of praise for the Queen. Elsa shrinks back, overwhelmed by the mass of people caging her in.

Anna knocks her playfully on the shoulder. “Hey, it's OK. They don't bite, you know.”

“They shouldn't be cheering for me.” Elsa replies. _This is all Anna, why can't they see that?_

“Just enjoy it.” Anna laughs. “Arandelle misses you.”

_And everyone else probably still wants me dead._ Elsa thinks to herself, but she lets her sister drag her into the crowd, and for once doesn't try to fight the giggle that rises up in her throat as Anna grabs a random stranger and whirls them around, whooping.

Of course it's only a matter of time before Anna persuades Elsa to show off her powers to the crowd, and Elsa is alarmed at the ease with which she manipulates the ice that flies from her hands. The sisters drag each other around the newly-formed rink giggling helplessly, and for the first time in over a decade, Elsa allows the tiniest bubble of hope to well up inside her.


	7. One Wrong Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slip up on Elsa's part makes old habits come calling once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where we leave the canon behind, the chapters become a lot tighter... and everything starts to go downhill again.

It's barely a week before the bubble bursts.

Elsa is sitting by the window in her bedroom, watching a full moon chart it's way across the sky and lazily creating ice-crystal shapes in the air. Anna and Kristoff were out somewhere enjoying the return of the warm whether, and Elsa was revelling in the time alone. As much as she loved her sister, a life of almost total isolation made extended bouts of company a little difficult to handle.

She was attempting to frost her name across the window when a loud crash tore through the peace of the night. Elsa started in alarm, and ice flew out in a wide circle around her, scuffing the wall paper and smashing through the glass next to her.

She leapt off the window seat and staggered backwards. A second later a servant entered the room behind her and tried to ascertain what had happened. Elsa barely registered them – all she could see was the broken fragments of window scattered at her feet and the night air blowing her hair gently off her face. Her only thought was: _I lost control. I lost control..._

One unexpected noise, was that all it took?

People mill around her, sweeping up the broken window, and suddenly Elsa is thrown back to a previous summer day so long ago that had looked so very similar... except it had been the mirror being cleared up around her as she stood shocked and dazed.

_I thought I was making progress. I thought I was doing so well. I've not advanced at all_.

Here she was once again, watching servants clear away the consequences of her loss of control. _Oh God, what if someone else had been in the room with me... I could have killed them..._

The thought almost brings Elsa to her knees. All her life that same worry had been plaguing her, and just when she thought she was finally rid of it... _This is never going to end, is it?_

Trying not to make a scene, she dismisses the servants and climbs into bed, curling herself into a tight ball under the covers and trying to shut out the world. Mama had always told her that a good nights sleep could fix anything. Elsa sincerely hopes that she was right as she drifts into a broken sleep, stubbornly ignoring the tears leaking down her face.

She wakes feeling empty.

Nowhere near the levels of the all-consuming vacuum that had suffocated her that night in her castle, but enough that for almost an hour she lies in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to find an adequate reason for moving.

The curtains are closed, but the their gentle fluttering in the corner of Elsa's vision serve as a cruel reminder of last night's accident. Everything she'd thought she'd gained, wiped with one flinch. _There's no cure for being a monster,_ a voice in her head whispered, _Did you really think was all over? Stupid._

Chest aching with her failure, Elsa rolls onto her side so the window disappears from view. But the action scrapes her arm along the mattress, causing the cuts there to sting. Suddenly, she is acutely aware of every self-inflicted mark on her body as though they had all been set on fire.

She grips the sheets, heart suddenly thudding. _No. No I can't._

She screws her eyes shut and tries to think of anything but the abrasions on her skin. It's almost a minute and a half before she realises that it's futile, the old urge to attack herself that she hasn't felt for days returns with a vengeance and reminds of all the things it had helped her get through.

_I fucked up,_ she thinks to herself, peering over her shoulder at the shattered window. _I always punish myself for fucking up, don't I? Why should I let myself off now?_

Suddenly all she can think about is losing control around Anna, of striking her sister yet again. Surely not even Anna could survive her a third time.

_Monster._

Elsa sits upright in bed, finally giving in to the temptation. _It makes sense_ , she reasons with herself as she rolls her sleeve up, _I run the risk of hurting people, so I have to be hurt myself. No one else will do it._

She glances one last time at the curtain that masks her crime, then puts her hands up and watches as the air solidifies in front of her. The ice shard that forms is thicker and sharper than she usually makes, but Elsa is beyond caring. She thrusts her arm out and brings the makeshift weapon down hard.

It slices deep into her skin, forcing a gasp from her throat. She watches, finding this one cut enough, as for several seconds it is almost invisible. Then a thin line of blood collects along it's length. Elsa finds that she welcomes the sight and the sting almost like an old friend.

For several minutes she simply stares down at the slit, the cut-crushing anxiety fading away to be replaced by the familiar weariness that she always carries with her. Then she is interrupted by an enthusiastic pounding on her door and the voice of her sister calling her down to breakfast.

Elsa pulls herself from her bed and dresses. Her sleeve rubs against her new wound, and she welcomes the light sting – a reminder that she needs to always be in control of herself. She goes down into breakfast, letting Anna's infectious good spirits lift her mood until she has almost forgotten about the broken window.

_I can learn not to be a monster_ , she reassures herself as she eats, _I just need to be more careful_.


	8. Conceal, Don't Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being careful isn't as easy - or discrete - as Elsa would like it to be. Did she really imagine that she could keep this up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't really expect me to get through the entire story without using the film's catchphrase at some point, did you? :P

If after the incident with the window Elsa finds her powers harder to control again, she doesn't dare admit it to herself.

The smile on her face whenever Anna and her friends are around is genuine and easy, so she lets herself ignore the thrumming anxiety that simmers underneath her laughter.

But late at night, long after everyone else has retired to bed, Elsa locks herself in her room, struggling to regain the mastery that she'd felt the day she'd thawed Arandelle. She's much better than she used to be, she can see that. But every now and then her focus slips, she makes a move out of place, and her control slides away from her.

Even the tiniest of mistakes almost brings her to tears. _This shouldn't be happening any more._

Those lonely hours make her feel 10 years old again, unable to touch any surface without freezing it. In the following weeks she cuts herself 3 more times – punishments for her worst transgressions that, come morning, she hides away under long sleeves and a regal smile. However, despite her best efforts, she is unable to avoid suspicion entirely.

“How can you still be wearing those?” Anna asks her one day, after persuading her sister to take a walk around the grounds with her. Elsa glances down at her heavy dress that shrouds her from neck to feet, and shrugs, “I... heat doesn't really bother me.”

Anna huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Oh really? You're saying that the woman with ice powers doesn't feel heat? Come on, what's the real reason?”

Elsa doesn't reply, scrabbling for an explanation. Anna was right, she's _stifling_ , but she doesn't dare let on.

“You're not insecure, are you?” her sister asks, eyes glinting with amusement.

“I...”

“Elsa! That's ridiculous, you're beautiful! Man, I would kill for your complexion, I mean look at _me_.” she sticks her bare arms out with an exaggerated grimace, “The sun makes me go all splotchy. Kristoff tans absolutely gorgeously, which is so unfair. Actually, you'd probably just burn, maybe you've got the right idea after all.” she reaches out to pluck at Elsa's sleeve and Elsa jerks away in a sudden flash of panic. _She mustn’t see!_

Anna withdraws her hand, looking concerned. “Elsa? What's wrong?”

Elsa unconsciously pulls at her sleeves, tugging them down over her hands. “Nothing.” she stammers, “It – just forget about it. I... I should get back. Royal duties, you know.” She turns on her heel and hurries off back to the castle, pretending she doesn't see the worry in her sister's eyes.

_Careless. You're supposed to be careful, remember?_

She reaches the gates, slips inside, and escapes down to the cellars. Down bellow ground level the air is cool, and the clack of Elsa's shoes echo back at her off the stone walls as she walks. Her stomach is roiling and she crosses her arms across her abdomen, hunching in on herself.

She thinks back to day she'd brought back summer – The Great Thaw, as she'd heard people call it. She'd laughed that day, laughed properly for the first time in years. She remembers the sunlight soaking into her skin as she'd danced and been dragged around by Anna until night had fallen and her feet were aching. She'd allowed herself to believe, that blissful afternoon, that it was all over.

_Stupid. How could it ever be over?_

The habits of nearly a lifetime don't just disappear. _Can a monster ever stop being a monster?_

For hours Elsa paces around the empty hallways, mind reeling with too many thoughts. Finally, she feels exhaustion creeping into the tangle, and she retires back upstairs to her chamber, pushing the door shut behind her and glancing around the room. The room that had held her captive for almost as long as she could remember.

When she was a child, she'd assumed that she was kept there to protect _her_ , to keep her safe from the mobs and the armies that would surely want to destroy her.

Nowadays she isn't so sure.

She slides into bed and stares vacantly at the wall until her eyelids close and she drops off into a sleep filled with shadowy creatures that call out her name as though beckoning her to join them.

Over the next few days Elsa senses a change in the castle. There is still laughter over breakfast and far too much talk of the mechanics of ice harvesting and an over-excitable snowman determined to keep a running commentary on their entire lives. But sometimes Elsa thinks she sees her sister gazing at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye, or lost in a thought that seems far too serious to be on Anna's normally so perky mind.

Elsa attempts to shake it off as paranoia – _she came too close the other day, that's all, calm down_ – and carry on her days as normal. She almost succeeds, until one day she walks round a corner to see Anna and Kristoff talking in low, urgent tones at the other end of the corridor. The moment they catch on that she's there they jump apart, Anna with a “Oh! Hi Elsa!” that is too forcibly cheery even for her.

“Is everything OK?” Elsa asks, warily.

“What?” Kristoff replies, “Uh, yeah, everything's great! It's just – I mean, we were–”

Anna cuts him off with an elbow to the ribs that Elsa is fairly certain she didn't want her to see. “It's all right, really Elsa.” she tells her, “You don't have to worry.” She grabs Kristoff's arm and propels him away. Elsa watches them go, wondering what exactly was going on and just how worried she should be.

She doesn't have to wait long to discover that the answer was, in fact, extremely worried.

Barely 3 days later Elsa stands alone in the centre of her room, watching the moon disappear behind a bank of clouds. For almost an hour she'd been attempting to get control of her powers, but to no avail. She'd come within a hair's breadth of breaking the window a second time before admitting defeat. She had no focus tonight, her head was simply too clouded with thoughts and concerns for her to get the concentration she so desperately needed.

For a few moments she entertained the idea of simply going to bed and trying again tomorrow. The thought made her stomach twist. _That would just be giving up. If I give up tonight, what's to stop me giving tomorrow, and the night after that, and after that, until I'm right back where I was as a child?_

_I'm so close to that already._

No. She had to clear her head and go back to work.

She pauses for a moment, pretending to consider the matter, but she couldn't even fool herself – there had only been ever one sure fire method for draining her thoughts away.

With a heavy sigh she perches cross-legged on the edge of the bed and rolls up her sleeve, wondering briefly if there's a single spot on her arm that she hasn't brutalised at some point over the years.

_Does it really matter?_

She spins an icicle in the air, finding the process more of a struggle than usual. Normally this was the only scenario in which her powers did what she wanted them too. _Except for the day of The Great Thaw_ , her mind supplies, but she shuts that down. That just brings up too many of the thoughts she's trying to banish.

Finally she succeeds, curling a hand around the pointed cylinder of ice. She barely feels the cold that should be seeping into her skin at the contact. _At least some things I can rely on_ , she thinks bitterly, before plunging the icicle into her upper arm.

She gasps aloud, pain tearing from the tiny entrance wound and spidering all along her skin. Immediately her thoughts sharpen and the gnawing anxiety seems to lessen. Gently, she tugs the weapon out of her, watching passively as a trickle of blood runs down into the crook of her elbow. She isn't normally so aggressive with herself, but tonight she feels like she deserves it.

She's about to lift the ice again when she hears a loud gasp behind her, followed by glass smashing on the floor.

She leaps off the bed and spins around, the icicle shattering on the tiled floor. _No..._

Anna stands in the doorway, broken glass at her feet. Elsa pulls her sleeve down, but she can see it's far too late. Her little sister is still as a statue, eyes wide with unveiled horror and fixed on the growing patch of red that stands out vividly against the blue of Elsa's sleeve. Elsa stares back at her, breathing hard, thoughts lost in a tangled chaos of _oh god please no Anna no what are you doing here oh please oh please no._

For a moment the world freezes, time stalling in place as neither woman moves. Then Anna's eyes tear away from her sister's arm and glance up to her face, her stricken look written clear across her features.

“Elsa...”


	9. You'll Only Make It Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another potentially upsetting chapter. I'm sure I don't need to explain why, but the end notes have details if you need them.

The world shudders to a standstill.

Elsa's blood pounds in her ears and sends the room around her spinning as her eye's lock with her sisters. _She saw she saw she saw oh God no..._

“Elsa.” Anna repeats, voice suddenly thick. Her gaze flicks back down to Elsa's red stained sleeve, “Did... did you–”

“You don't understand, Anna.” Elsa interrupts her, pulling her arm behind her and feeling her hands shake.

“Really?” her sister's voice has turned timid and fragile, a tone that Elsa has heard countless times over the years through her closed bedroom door. Her heart clenches painfully in her chest. “You mean...” Anna continues, taking a tiny step forward into the room, “you mean that you slipped and caught your arm on the edge of the desk or you were practising and you lost control and you didn't just–”

“Anna, please–”

“–just do that to yourself _deliberately_.” Anna's voice is suddenly cracking and her eyes are shining and Elsa wants to pull her into her arms and tell her that everything is OK but oh god it isn't. _she knows it's over oh god Anna please she knows she knows she knows._

“Elsa, why...” Anna bites her lip, unable to finish her question.

“It...” words have deserted Elsa. She scrambles around in her thoughts for a way to make Anna see, to make her _understand_. “I was getting out of control, I... my magic–”

“You couldn't get a hold on your powers so your solution is to _injure yourself?_ ” Anna spits out, tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes.

_Anna please..._

“You don't understand...” Elsa chokes out again, but falls silent when she sees a look of complete dread cross her sister's face.

“The other morning.” Anna murmurs, sounding as though she's talking more to herself than Elsa. “In the grounds, when you wouldn't let me touch you... show me your arm, Elsa.”

“What?” Elsa asks, automatically jerking away. Her sister's face almost crumples at the action and it's virtual admission of guilt, then she takes 3 purposeful strides across the room to where Elsa is backed into a corner. The blonde can only watch as Anna takes her wrist and pushes her sleeve up past her elbow, revealing the enumerable cuts and scars that mar her skin.

Another breathless, eternal second passes between them. Then Anna drops her arm, cheeks streaked with tears. “How long has this been going on?”

Elsa cannot meet her gaze. The truth – that she honestly isn't sure any more, that by now the pain is one of her oldest friends – sticks in her throat, dragging the air out of the room.

Anna steps backwards and turns away, one hand rising to cover her mouth. Her pain is too much for Elsa to handle. “Anna...”

“Why Elsa?” her sister whirls back around to face her, “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I have to!” Elsa retorts, her voice rising, “It's the only way to keep my powers under control.”

“Your powers...” Anna stares at her, face contorted in anguish, “But what about the day you brought back summer? You had no trouble that day, I thought...” she trails off, but Elsa knows exactly what she wanted to say. _You thought I was OK, that everything could be solved with one overdue hug and all my problems would just vanish?_

_So did I._

“It... it was all right that day.” Elsa agrees, eyes fixed on the floor. “But afterwards it started getting worse again. It started getting dangerous, I ended up breaking a window.” she gestures to the now-fixed pane of glass behind her, remembering the helplessness she'd felt that night.

“And that justifies hurting yourself?” Anna asks, “Elsa, it's going to take time, you can't expect to be perfect just like that–”

“But I have to be!” Elsa snaps, “Don't you get it? I'm _dangerous_ , if I don't have complete mastery of my powers then people end up getting hurt.”

“Yes, _you do!_ ” Anna gestures at her exposed arm angrily, “You're not a monster Elsa, you shouldn't have to keep yourself caged up and tied down.”

_Monster._ The word rings through Elsa, silencing her thoughts. She looks up at Anna. “How can you say that? I've almost murdered you _twice_ , Anna, my own sister!”

“You didn't mean to–”

“What difference does it make?” Elsa asks, tears suddenly clouding her vision. “It happened and I couldn't stop it, and if I don't keep myself in line, it'll happen again. Bad people need to be punished.”

For a moment Anna looks on the verge of throwing up. Her eyes widen and she draws in a sharp breath. “Is that what this is?” she asks, voice cracking, “A... a _punishment?_ ”

“Don't tell me I don't deserve it.” Elsa replies, “Not after everything I've done.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Anna says, so quietly Elsa almost doesn't hear her over the sound of her own laboured breathing.

“What?”

“Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you tell me how scared you were? I – I could have helped you.”

“How, Anna?” Elsa shoots back frustratedly, “What could you have done? You don't know what this is like, no one does.”

“I know what it's like to be alone!” Anna practically snarls, taking a step back towards Elsa, “I know because you spent years shutting me out and slamming doors in my face, and I thought we were _done_ with that, I thought we were finally sisters again, but you're still not letting me in.”

“I let you in, Anna.”

“No you haven't! Why did you try to keep this from me? We're sisters, we're supposed to be there for each other.”

“That's just it!” Elsa cries, “I couldn't burden you with this, Anna, you've been through too much already.”

Anna's hands clench into fists by her sides, “ _Burden_ me? You though lying to my face and calling it protection was better that confiding in me?” She takes a deep, shuddering breath and continues quieter, “I share everything with you, Elsa, because I _trust you_. But how can I do that when you won't do the same?”

Elsa tries to calm the torrent of emotion raging inside her, “Sometimes there are things that just can't be shared.” she tells Anna, “I wouldn't expect you to tell me everything, either. Our lives are our own, and there are things that we just have to cope with ourselves.”

“This shouldn't be one of them!” Anna is practically yelling now, angrier than Elsa has ever seen her. “How can you just damage yourself like this?”

“I can't stop!” Elsa shouts, heart twisting at acknowledgement of the one fact she'd been unable to admit to herself – that by now her talk of _punishments_ and _control_ were more excuses than anything else.

“What do you mean you can't stop?” Anna retorts, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks, “Nobody's forcing you to do this except you, why would–”

“This is why I kept it from you, Anna!” Elsa cuts across her, anger suddenly flaring in her chest, “I knew you wouldn't understand, how could you? You always were far too naive.”

The next second any further comment is silenced by the flat of Anna's palm connecting sharply with Elsa's cheek. Her head snaps round, ears ringing from the force of the slap, and for a second there is nothing but the twin fires burning in her face and chest.

When she looks back around, Anna is staring at her with wide, horrified eyes. Her face is streaked with tears and one shaking hand is hovering over her mouth. “Elsa...” she breaths. She sound completely wrecked.

Elsa's first impulse is to pull Anna close and wrap her arms around her. To apologise and promise her that it would be all right and they'd work it out. But her sister's hand print is still searing the side of her face and _you're still not letting me in_ clangs around inside her head.

She doesn't reach out for Anna. Instead she brushes past her and sweeps out of the room, ignoring the desperate plea of her name that follows after her.

Hurrying away down the corridor, she briefly entertains the possibility of getting away, of escaping back up to her ice castle where she has room to breath. But then she remembers the last time she'd ventured out in such an emotional state, and is forced to reconsider. Enough people are still calling for her blood without her setting off winter a second time.

Confined within the palace walls, Elsa finds herself heading back down into the cellars. The air is still cool and the hallways deserted as she paces, wringing her hands and trying to fight down her emotions. _Conceal don't feel don't get upset keep it together she doesn't understand she doesn't understand Anna please get it please please..._

She could still see the horror all over her sisters face. How long had she lived in fear of inspiring that exact expression? _I let her down. The only possible way left and I managed it_.

All of a sudden Elsa is tired. Tired of constantly battling for control; tired of letting people down; tired of her life going round and round in endless circles.

Mama had been wrong – there were some things that a good nights sleep just couldn't fix.

Elsa sinks to the floor in a corner, hugging her knees to her chest and giving up the fight against the quiet, defeated sobs that had been trying to escape her. She'd been so sure that she and Anna could patch things up, could repair the abused tapestry of their relationship.

Huddled in her corner and shivering against the cold, Elsa is sure she can almost feel the final strand snapping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Anna finally realises what Elsa has been doing in secret. Elsa spills all of her insecurities, but Anna cannot understand, especially when Elsa admits to the dependence of cutting that she's developed. They grow increasingly frustrated with each other until Elsa insults Anna and Anna slaps her across the face. Elsa leaves and sinks further into her downward spiral.


	10. I Can't Be Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa had always told herself that Anna finding out would be the worst thing imaginable. There is no solace to be found in being right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Elsa's depression is in full force this chapter.

It is almost a week before Elsa and Anna see each other again.

Elsa insists to herself that she’s not _avoiding_ her sister. But the scarce free time she has, once spent laughing with Anna and Kristoff and Olaf, she now spends confined in her room, curled into a little ball on her bed. As a child she’d spent countless hours staring out of the window, dreaming of the magic and the adventure that must surely lie beyond the palace grounds. Now she can leave whenever she chooses, Elsa realises that the enticing pull has vanished. _Everything is beautiful until you get up close_.

She all but gives up her magic practice. What’s the point, when her powers do nothing but cause harm?

Two days after their argument Elsa begins to suspect that she not the only one avoiding a sister. Anna’s light, quick footsteps stop passing by her door, and sometimes Elsa can swear she hears her sister’s voice abruptly falling silent from around a corner as her clacking heels make her arrival known.

Part of Elsa is relieved. She doesn’t have the words in her to make Anna understand, doesn’t have the energy to fight the condemnation in her eyes. _This is what you always wanted_ , she insists to herself over and over. _For Anna to finally lose her misplaced faith. It’s better this way._

She isn’t fooling herself, but she tries her hardest to pretend otherwise.

The crushing emptiness that had fallen on her the night of the argument persists, drowning out Elsa’s anguish. For the first time she finds herself wishing the feeling would return – even despair was better than the aching numbness that she feels all the way to her bones.

For several days she drifts along, dodging worried glances from her advisers and trying to ignore how potently she misses her sister’s presence. _Don’t be selfish. She doesn’t need you contaminating her life._ It is not until she wakes one morning and cannot find the energy to even rise from her bed that she gives in, and her mind returns to her scars.

A small voice in her mind hisses that her emptiness is a well-deserved punishment, but for once she is past the point of caring. Maybe she had earned it, but she can't take it any more. For most of her life the cutting had been about relieving feelings, not summoning them, and for a moment she hesitates, wondering if she’ll only end up pushing herself further away. But she doesn’t pause for long; if the pain is all she can muster, then the pain is what she'll take.

Bracing herself, she heaves herself upright and leans against the headboard, thinking back over all her past abuses. As if responding to her thoughts, her ice-burned hip twinges, and she remembers the pain she’d caused herself, sitting in this very room with her sister’s laughter ringing through the grounds outside. If it’s sensation she was looking for…

Pushing her blankets aside, she clasps a hand firmly around her right thigh and forces her magic through her fingers. After prolonged disuse the action is a strain, and in moments beads of sweat are collecting on her brow and her arm is tensing up. Then, inch by inch, the skin under her palm begins glimmering with ice. Elsa can barely feel it. _Not enough._

She redoubles her efforts, forming the coldest ice she can muster under her hand. A tingling begins along her skin, the shadow of the blistering that is sure to follow. Feeling her control begin to return to her, Elsa pours all her energy into her hand, heart thumping as needles of ice pierce her skin.

She doesn’t let up until a blinding pain shoots through her leg and she lets go with a cry, slumping sideways onto the bed. Glancing down, she sees the hand-sized patch of red, blistered skin that throbs in time with her heartbeat. Her chest burns from exertion and her face is flushed and damp with sweat. She hurts all over.

It's the best she's felt for days.

Suddenly, Elsa feels sick. She sits upright again and pulls her nightgown down over her burns, burying her face in her hands. Anna's words ring in her ears: _“You couldn't get a hold on your powers so your solution is to injure yourself?”_

_How have I fallen so far?_

She had been happy once, she's sure of it. As a child she'd spent hours exploring every corner of the castle, sliding around the ballrooms in her socks and laughing until she thought her ribs would bust. _Now my own sister won't even be in the same room as me_.

Elsa screws her eyes shut. This was her life. One endless circle – bad to worse, wrong turn after wrong turn after wrong turn.

“ _I thought we were finally sisters again, but you're still not letting me in.”_

_What do you want from me, Anna?_

She was so tired of looking out at the world through a mask, of interacting with people every day and not _one_ of them realising who she really was. Everybody bowed respectfully and addressed her as “Your Majesty” and never thought to question their _beautiful ruler_. She'd always known it would be hard work, living up to the expectations of her subjects, but she hadn't counted on just how much it would drain the life out of her. _Mama could do it. Her and papa took such good care of Arandelle. They'd be so disappointed in me._

She thinks back to the night in her castle when her snow guardian had been the only reason she hadn't plunged to her death at the bottom of the chasm. Just for a moment, she wishes he hadn't been there to stop her.

Her breathing had returned to normal, leaving her once again empty save for her burning thigh. _This should be the part of my circle where I cry myself to sleep_ , she thinks to herself, _but it won't be, not this time._ This time she is too hollow for tears.

She doesn't leave her room until dark has fallen and the corridor outside is silent. Then she creeps out and pads barefoot down the staircase into the main hall, eyes fixed on the ground until she finds what she's looking for. Down at the very end and rising almost to the ceiling hangs a portrait of the former king and queen, commissioned after their sudden deaths.

Elsa gazes up at her parents in the darkness. Her memories of them are full of concerned faces and outstretched hands. They'd never stopped trying to help her, even after she'd given up herself. _Must be where Anna gets it from_.

She'd ruined her family; forced them into the shadows and blotted out the rest of their lives with her incompetence. She really was a monster, yet somehow she was the only one who knew.

How could everyone be so _blind?_

An emotion stirs somewhere deep within Elsa, so faint she almost doesn't recognise it. Then it flares, and she realises that it is _anger_ – anger at everyone who was too stupid to see past her poorly constructed barriers and recognise just how not OK she was; anger at herself for being too weak to fight her own mind; anger at everything that had happened to her. _Why me why me why me._

She doesn't even attempt to stop the rage that boils up – instead she embraces it, clenching her fists so hard she almost draws blood and pacing in an agitated circle, letting the fire overwhelm her. Hot, furious tears prickle in the corners of her eyes, and she whirls around and grabs a spear off the nearest suit of armour. Then she pulls her arm back and hurls it with all her strength, watching as it bounces off the wall and clatters to the floor. It feels good, but it's not enough, it's not _enough_. For the first time since her argument with Anna, Elsa feels alive again – a spark of resentment had relit the dormant inferno inside her, and suddenly she is desperate to keep it blazing.

She cannot stay in the hall; much more noise will awaken the rest of the castle. Elsa hesitates for a moment, fists clenching and unclenching in frustration. Then it comes to her. Turning on her heel she stalks of down the hallway, wishing she was wearing shoes that she could stab into the ground with every step. Settling for somewhat childish stomping, she hurries down though the castle to a part she'd barely ever visited: the armoury.

Mama and papa had forbidden her and Anna from going there as children, so her only views of the array of weaponry housed by the castle guards had been glimpses through partially open doors on her explorations. However, now no one will stop her, she marches straight past them – they're not what she's there for.

A door at the back of the armoury leads her through to the training room, a large cavernous rectangle filled with targets and obstacles. Barely registering the chilly floor on the bottom of her feet, Elsa comes to a halt and turns to a wooden cut out of a soldier down the other end of the concourse, redirecting all her anger in it's direction. It was the man in the courtyard who had cowered away from her in fear, it was the guard who attempted to take her life, it was the advisers who failed time and time again to notice how she was really feeling, it was prince Hans laughing over her sister's brittle form, it was –

Elsa releases a yell of fury and throws her hands outwards. Talons of ice shoot down the room and bury deep in the cut out target, splinters flying in all directions. Elsa draws in a deep breath and tenses her muscles, feeling her magic brewing under her skin. Then she lets it go and watches as a veritable wall of ice shards hurtles towards the target and shatters it. She stares at the broken wood now littering the floor and feels a curl of power amongst the ire. It reminds her of the night she'd fled to the North Mountain – the only time she'd ever felt truly free.

Free that is, until she'd all but killed her baby sister.

A noise somewhere between a scream and a sob tears free of Elsa's throat and she shoves her palms away from her, sending ice scraping along the floor and snapping an arrow discarded on the ground in two.

She knows it probably shouldn't, but the destruction feels _good_. She blasts more ice through the air, aiming for every target she can see. Her aim is sloppy and her mind swirling, but several minutes later the room is strewn with shrapnel and melting ice. With every shot Elsa screams her frustration and anger and guilt as though she could force all the darkness from her body through sheer determination.

Very quickly she loses track of time, loses all sense of reality, falling into the magic and the sound of wood breaking. It's not until she spins too forcefully and topples onto her knees that she comes back to herself. However long it's been, her efforts have left her boiling hot and dripping with sweat, throat burning and lungs collapsing in on themselves. The anger that had arrived so suddenly had been replaced by a physical exhaustion that she hasn't felt in years – her heartbeat pounds underneath her skin and her breath escapes her in wheezes.

This is what she'd been looking for, she realises, the previous morning when she'd burned herself. So much activity so fast had left her shaky and vaguely ill, but _feeling_ once more. She takes deep, shuddering breaths, hair plastered to her head.

“I suppose this is an improvement, all things considered.”

With a start of alarm, Elsa staggers to her feet – knees almost giving out on her – and turns around. Anna stands in the doorway in her pyjamas, gazing at her sister.

Elsa's heart twists, warring between bursting into tears and flinging herself into Anna's arms. She so desperately craves the comfort of her sister's optimism, but knows she has no right to ask for it. Instead she remains where she is, scrabbling for the right thing to say, knowing she will never find it.

“Elsa, I...” Anna begins, then hesitates. She takes a couple of steps into the room, eyes fixed on the floor. “I need to talk to you. But I'm not sure how.”

Elsa had never known an Anna without words before. “Neither am I.” she admits.

Anna nods pensively, then takes a deep breath, seeming to be steeling herself. Her eyes finally leave the tiles, and she gestures to a bare patch of floor a few feet away. “Lets sit down.” she says. “I have some stuff I need to say. And... I'm sure you do too.”


	11. I'm Such a Fool

Elsa moves to sit down, self-consciously pulling the hem of her dress down over her calves. Anna follows her, and for a few moments they sit in silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Then Anna speaks up: “You were right.” she says, “I don't understand. I don't understand why you would do this to yourself and I don't understand why you thought you had to hide it from me.”

Elsa hugs her legs, resting her chin on her knees. “After a while hiding becomes second nature. I had to deal with this on my own, like everything else.”

“You don't have to deal with _anything_ on your own, Elsa.” Anna replies, “That's what sisters are for.”

Elsa sighs. She doesn't hold out much hope of making her sister see, but at least Anna seemed willing to listen this time. “I'm supposed to protect you. What kind of big sister would I be if I dragged you down with me?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Anna glance at her, “Elsa... I'm not a child any more. We missed each other growing up, you don't know what I can handle.”

“I didn't mean that.” Elsa turns to look back at her, “I know how strong you are Anna, I've seen that with my own eyes. But you still need someone to watch out for you, everyone does.”

Anna gazes at her in silence for a few moments, then asks, “So who watches out for you?”

“No one.” Elsa sighs, turning away again. “I'm Queen, I no longer have the indulgence of being cared for.”

“Only because you won't let anyone!” Anna bursts out, causing Elsa to flinch in alarm. “You say that you don't need anyone, but you do.” she took a deep breath, eyes cast downwards, “Shutting people out doesn't make anything easier.”

“The less people I have near me, the less people there are to hurt.” Elsa replies slowly, staring at a chunk of wood that had been reduced to sawdust near her feet. _Please Anna, I've destroyed too much already._

Her sister stiffens next to her. “So that's it?” she asks, “You spend your whole life alone because you're scared? Elsa, what if we could help you?”

“How could anyone help me?” Elsa replies shortly, “Mama and papa spent my whole life trying, they got nowhere.”

“They didn't know what we know!” Anna says urgently.

Elsa's gaze returns to her, “What do you mean?”

Anna clears her throat, “I... I've been thinking a lot, about what you said about the day you brought back summer. You said that you had control that day.”

“I did.” _That's why it hurt so much when I lost it again._

“Maybe that's because you were so happy that day.” Anna continues, “I mean, what if you can't control yourself because you're always so scared?”

The thought gives Elsa pause. She remembers the night she'd fled to the North Mountain, the ease with which her castle had formed out of the air around her. How her magic on the day of The Great Thaw had obeyed her every whim. What if Anna was right...?

Then a memory rises in her mind that cuts through all the others. She curls tighter in on herself. “The day I broke the window,” she tells Anna plaintively, “I wasn't scared or upset then. I was simply startled. Even when I'm happy I can still lose control so easily. What if instead of the window it was you?”

Anna hesitates, and Elsa feels the familiar crush of defeat settle over her once more.

“Everybody has bad nights.” Anna says thoughtfully.

“My bad nights are significantly more damaging than anyone else's.” Elsa replies tiredly. “I appreciate you trying to help me, but there's nothing you can do.”

“There must be something!” Anna retorts, throwing her hands up in the air, “You can't just give up!”

_I already have._ Elsa remains silent, avoiding her sister's eyes.

The two women sit in a deafening silence for what feels like an age. Then Anna speaks in a voice so quiet Elsa almost doesn't hear her. “Do you really think you're a bad person?”

Elsa's heart clenches in her chest. “Do you really think I'm not? After all I've done.”

“ _Accidents,_ Elsa.” Anna says wearily.

“Not all accidents are forgiveable.”

“Don't you think that's for me to decide?” Anna asks, “I'm the one who almost got frozen to death twice after all, but I'm still here. _I_ forgive you, Elsa.”

“If you'd almost killed me,” Elsa asks her despondently, “would you be able to forgive yourself?”

Anna doesn't reply, and the silence envelopes them again. Elsa ducks her head, resting her forehead on her knees. Her heart is still pounding, adding to her suddenly overwhelming sense of exhaustion. “I'm sorry.” she says, without lifting her head, “I wish I had your optimism, Anna.”

There is a rustle of fabric next her as Anna stands up. “You don't want to hurt me, do you Elsa?”

“What?” Elsa looks up in alarm, “Of course not, how can you say that?”

Anna takes a deep breath, staring at the wall over her sister's head. “ _This_ hurts me, Elsa.” she said firmly, a barely perceptible tremor in the edges of her voice. “Knowing that you're damaging yourself like this. It hurts.”

Without looking back, she turns and walks out of the chamber, arms wrapped around herself. Elsa can only stare after, throat constricting painfully and tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. _Anna..._

She was bad for her sister. She always had been.

Elsa gazes round at the carnage that she sits in the middle of. _This is my life, isn't it? Carnage._

Suddenly Elsa just wishes that this day was over. Climbing to her feet, she stumbles through the hallways back to her bedroom and curls underneath the blankets. In the darkness she could almost pretend that the rest of the world didn't exist. _Just me. All alone._

The thought doesn't comfort her like it used to.

Her dreams are filled with the hazy images of ancient memories, distorted snatches of conversation and blurry shapes moving in the edge of her vision. She wakes with a vague sense of unease to find almost 14 hours have passed. Try as she might, she can't shake her sister's words of the night before. _“What if you can't control yourself because you're always so scared?”_

_What if what if what if._ She knows it's hopeless. It's always been hopeless. _Why do I always have to trust you Anna?_

She feels the idea echoing in her mind and distracting her, though why it takes root so firmly alludes her. It's not until she escapes into the palace grounds to be alone and spies the cluster of rocks at the edge of the forest that an old memory is abruptly unearthed: _Fear will be you're enemy._

_Fear will be your enemy._ That's what she'd been told that night so long ago. She'd assumed the trolls had meant other people's fear. But what if...?

_What if what if what if._

_Love will thaw_.

“Love will thaw.” she mutters to herself, all of a sudden finding it hard to breath. She slumps down on a rock, staring at the grass beneath her feet without seeing it.

She'd figured it out, she realises, the day of The Great Thaw. She'd _known_ that it had been Anna that had kept her magic in line, even when she hadn't been around. But she'd let herself be blinded by her own fear.

_Fear will be your enemy._

_Love will thaw._

_What if what if..._

Had she never noticed that after she started pushing her sister away again her powers had spiralled out of control?

A sob tears its way out of her and she clamps a hand over her mouth. _Oh Anna, you were right, weren't you? You're always right, how could I ever doubt you?_

Her whole life, never letting mama or papa touch her... her constant failure to master her powers. _Fear will be your enemy._

The world is too bright, the rustling of the leaves behind her deafening. Elsa staggers to her feet and runs back to the castle, crashing through doors and almost knocking over a servant on the way. The hope she'd worked so hard to quash flares hot and unstoppable in her chest, and even in her haste she can't help but notice that she leaves no trail of frost behind her.

She bursts through the door to her sister's bedroom and Anna jumps up in surprise.

“Elsa.” she gasps, taking in her windswept appearance and watery eyes. “What is it?”

“You were right.” Elsa gasps, dragging a hand across her eyes, “Anna, you were right, it... my powers, they're affected by – by my emotions.” she sniffs, “I... I need you Anna.”

In less than a second, Anna is across the room and pulling Elsa into her arms. The blonde buries her head in Anna's shoulder and sobs, clinging to her tightly. “I'm sorry.” she chokes out, “I'm so sorry.”

“No.” Anna tells her, voice thick, “No, _I'm_ sorry. I should have tried harder, I should have _been there_.”

“You were always there. It was me who shut you out. I was wrong, I was so wrong, I thought it was safer.” Elsa's knees give out and the two of them sink to the floor, clutching at each other and weeping loudly.

“It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.” Anna sniffs, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Elsa replies tearfully, “You'll always be my baby sister.”

For a long time Elsa and Anna hold onto each other, crying and begging for forgiveness until their eyes are red and both their dresses are damp. Elsa feels the fractured pieces of her soul starting to align – she knows this wasn't the end, this was barely the beginning. But she'd been wrong. She'd been wrong about Anna not being able to help her. She grips onto her baby sister until her arms start to ache.

_I'm sorry, Anna, I'm so sorry. I'll never let you go again._


	12. Control It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa may have finally started down the road to recovery, but the path she and Anna now tread is almost as dangerous as the one they left behind.

Hope, Elsa has learned over the years, is very difficult to maintain.

The very first hot flares of expectation are impossible to quell, no matter how much logic dictates that it is futile. But afterwards, after the buzz has died down, the feeling quickly sinks back to be lost amid despair.

Hope has proved empty so many times that Elsa never bothered to try and bolster the feeling into something more sustainable. The quicker it went away, the safer she was.

Which – she realises, huddled with Anna at the foot of her sister's bed – was going to be a very difficult habit to break.

“I'm not used to this.” she admits to Anna, “Letting people in. I'm not sure I know how any more.”

“It's easy.” her sister replies lightly, her head on Elsa's shoulder, “You just can't hide anything from me. Even if I can't help you, I still have to know.”

“I hate upsetting you with anything.” Elsa replies, “Especially if I don't have to.”

Anna sighs, “You can't keep me safe all the time. That's just life – we all get damaged.”

“You shouldn't have to.”

“ _You_ shouldn't have to.” Anna is silent for several moments, then says quietly, “Promise me you'll never hurt yourself again?”

“Promise.” _I couldn't. Not now you know. Not now it's hurting you as well_.

“Good.” Anna replies, then sits up and turns to face Elsa, “No time like the present, I guess. We have a lot to catch each other up on.”

“I guess we do.” Elsa says. She pulls herself into a more comfortable position and launches into their story – everything that had really happened when they'd played as children and the night it had all ended and the years that Elsa had kept herself hidden away and exactly what had occurred up in the North Mountain. She glosses over all the incidences of cutting as much as Anna will allow her. _Don't want to give myself any ideas._

The events of the last two decades take a long time to tell; by the time Elsa is finished her mouth is dry and her eyes are wet and she and Anna are clinging to each other once more. Every time things have gone wrong are suddenly spiralling round and round in Elsa's head, the old echoes of _one wrong move_ beginning to resurface.

“You realise I could still lose control so easily.” she tells her sister tearfully.

“Don't think about your magic now.” Anna insists, “We've got to get you better before you can worry about that.”

Elsa doesn't reply, knowing that (as usual) Anna is right. _Tied to my emotions_ , she reminds herself, _If I'm not OK, then my powers can't be OK._

Both women lapse into silence, their breathing synchronising until Anna's evens out and Elsa realises that she has fallen asleep. She lays her sister gently down on the bed, kisses her forehead, and slips quietly out of the room.

_This won't last._

The thought rises unbidden to her mind and her attempt to crush it is half-hearted at best. She knows better than anyone that no problem can be solved with a simple flick of the wrist and a healthy dose of determination. _If that were the case, bringing back summer would have been the end of it all._

_If only._

She shakes her head to banish that thought, reminding herself sternly that she'd promised Anna she'd try to be hopeful. How did her sister cling on to such boundless optimism in the face of all she'd been through? _Yet another skill I never managed to master._

Worn down by the emotional upheaval of the afternoon, Elsa retires to her bedroom and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep, banishing the world for a few precious hours.

Early the next morning the tone of the following weeks is established by Anna knocking insistently on Elsa's door and promptly dragging the bleary eyed Queen down to breakfast and demanding to know how she was feeling. Elsa gets her revenge by stealing food off Anna's plate whenever she isn't looking.

After they've eaten Elsa let's Anna talk her into taking a walk around the palace grounds – even though the height of summer has passed the day is sweltering, and both women flop out on the grass and let the sun beat down on them. Anna chatters excitedly about Krisotff's flourishing ice trade, and Elsa lets herself be dragged into her sister's enthusiasm, basking in the light and the fresh air until a harried looking adviser hurries over to them and summons Elsa back to the castle.

The inevitable crash back to Earth that Elsa had been dreading drops on her the moment she enters the council chamber. While she had been playing Big Sister the world had still been turning outside the palace gates. Over the last few months Elsa has lost count of the number of times her royal duties has pushed her over the edge. _Should have seen this coming should have seen this coming._

She is trapped with her council and advisers all day, not escaping until the sun has long since disappeared. By the time she is finally free her head is pounding and panic is edging into her awareness. Her skin prickles, mind straining for the emotional release she knows only pain can grant her. _A day. Is that really all it takes?_

She heads back to her bedroom and paces distractedly until Anna comes to her door.

“What happened?” she asked.

“It's nothing.” Elsa replies automatically, wringing her hands together.

“Elsa.” her sister chastises. “Everybody is looking really worried, including you – what's going on?”

Elsa sighs. _I promised._ “The Western Isles are threatening to cut off trade lines with us.”

Anna's eyes widen, “Why?”

“Why do you think?” Elsa huffs a humourless laugh, “Because of me! They say someone so dangerous isn't fit to rule and they shouldn't be doing deals with me.”

“That's ridiculous!” Anna cries, hands balling into fists at her sides.

_Is it?_ Elsa thinks, but doesn't voice the thought allowed. Instead she says, “But it's happening. I don't know what to do, Anna, I don't know how to fix this.”

“Hey.” Anna approaches her hesitantly, “You'll figure something out, I know you will.”

“Will I?” Elsa sits heavily down on her bed, staring at the floorboards, “I'm no good at this. I can't rule, I can't solve Arandelle's problems. I can't even solve my own problems.” She puts her arms around herself, shoulders hunching over.

“You can.” Anna insists, “You can do all of that, you just need to be patient. I believe in you Elsa.”

_You're the only one._

The blonde glances up into her sister's earnest face. _What good am I, really?_

“You look tired.” she says, “I'm sorry, Anna, I shouldn't be keeping you up, this isn't your problem. You should get some sleep.”

Anna hesitates, taking half a step backwards towards the door, but not turning away from Elsa. “I...” she starts, then falls silent again.

“What is it?”

Anna looks at the floor, “I just... don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone right now.”

Elsa stiffens. How could her sister read her so clearly? “I – I'm not going to do anything.” she chokes out, desperately hoping that it's true.

“Really?” Anna glances at her doubtfully, “You told me that you couldn't help... doing what you do. Old habits don't disappear just like that.”

Elsa shrinks further in on herself, heart twisting to hear Anna voice her fears aloud. “I don't want to load you down with this.” she says mournfully.

“Well I'm loading myself down with it.” her sister replies defiantly, “And I'm not leaving you like this. Come on.” she takes Elsa by the wrist and drags her off the bed and out of the room.

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see.”

Elsa lets Anna lead her down the corridor, willing to go along with her if it'll keep her distracted – she is still very aware of her breathing, shallower than it should be, and her blood flowing under the surface of her skin. _I could draw you out so easily. The sight of you always calmed me down..._

_No._ She shoves that thought away, glancing at Anna and remembering her sister's words. _“This hurts me, Elsa. Knowing that you're damaging yourself like this. It hurts.”_

_Never again._ She'd made up her mind.

But oh, how she wanted to...

She doesn't register where Anna is leading her until cool air is whipping her face and she realises they are back in the palace grounds.

“Anna, what are we doing?” she asks, bewildered.

Her sister releases her wrist, then stoops and picks something up off the ground. She turns to Elsa. “Bet you can't break this rock with your magic.”

“What?” Elsa asks, then catches on to Anna's train of thought. “You know, the night you found me down in the weapons hold... I didn't want to hurt myself that night.”

“Well there's no harm in trying.” Anna tells her, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Then she cries, “Think fast!” and hurls the rock up into the air.

Elsa jumps backwards and throws a hand outwards, propelling ice shards after it. She misses by a mile, slicing a branch off a nearby tree and sending tiny crystals of frost raining down all around them. Anna laughs, “I don't have any powers and even I could have done better than that!”

“I wasn't ready.” Elsa huffs indignantly, amusement cracking through the anxiety currently enveloping her.

“Are you ready for this?” Anna stoops again, and this time Elsa is prepared by the time Anna lets the rock fly. She misses again, the ice skidding to the ground a few meters away, but this time she was almost on target.

“Looks like we've got to work on your aim.” Anna tells her, “No wonder you've never jousted before.”

“What? They don't allow women to joust and you know it.” Elsa shoots back, before firing after the next rock that Anna throws and missing that one, too.

“You're the Queen!” her sister cries, “What's the point of being Queen if you can't do whatever you want?”

Elsa laughs, eyes crinkling in amusement, and Anna beams.

“All right.” the younger woman announces, arming herself once more, “For every rock that you manage to knock out of the sky, you get a point. For every one you miss, I get a point.”

“What will I win if I get the most points?” Elsa asks

“Pride?” Anna shrugs, before lobbing two stones into the air at once. Elsa yells in alarm and attempts to go after them both, resulting in both falling untouched to the earth, frost stuck in Elsa's hair, and Anna almost falling over from laughing so hard.

Elsa sticks her tongue out at her sister, and sends a veritable wall of ice almost as tall as she is after the next stone, slamming into the side of a tree.

“Cheater!” Anna exclaims.

“You never said that was against the rules.” Elsa tells her imperiously.

“Fine.” Anna collects her next missile, then abruptly turns and flees across the lawn. With a shout of indignation, Elsa takes off after her, not seeing the pebble until it lands a little to her left.

As had always happened when they were children, their game quickly devolves into running around and shrieking. As the night wears on, Elsa's aim begins to improve, and soon rocks are landing cracked and scraped from the force with which the ice shards had struck them. Neither sister thinks to keep score, and very soon all sense of structure is lost admit the joys of throwing stones and laughing like neither of them have done in years.

They don't return to the castle until the early hours of the morning, when both women are out of breath and almost too exhausted to walk straight. Elsa is still giggling feebly as she staggers back to her bedroom, pulse pounding in her ears and skin flushed with exertion. It's not until she collapses into bed, too tired to do more than kick her shoes off, that she realises the destruction she'd wreaked over the grounds had eclipsed the thrumming desire to turn her attack inwards. She was sure she'd be feeling the strain of her night of activity come morning, but right now she's almost content. _What would I do without you, Anna?_ is Elsa last thought before she falls into unconsciousness.

The coming of daylight brings harsh, drizzly weather and a call back to the council chambers. One night of childish games has given Elsa no answers to all the problems nipping at her heels, and she feels her mood begin to slide almost immediately. _One step forward, two steps back_ , she thinks to herself frustratedly, as she feels the itching panic begin to rise inside her again.

The current crisis keeps her locked in the castle for most of the following days. Whenever she can, she escapes to see Anna, who demands to know how she is feeling. Despite her promise of transparency, Elsa finds herself downplaying her state of nervous despair. Somehow, voicing it aloud would make it all too real. _Please understand that, Anna. Some things are just too much_.

However, she does keep her vow not to harm herself. She makes a habit of fleeing back down into the weapons hold or out into the forests surrounding the city, smashing and breaking apart and slicing anything except herself. She doubts that the habit of demolition she's building up is a healthy one, but she's desperate for any kind of release. Bottling up her emotions had served her even worse over the years.

After a week or two, Anna notices that Elsa's aim and precision is getting steadily better, and sweet-talks one of the captains of the Palace Guard into helping her refine it further. Under his instruction, Elsa quickly learns to appreciate the sense of power that smashing a wooden target to pieces with one blast of ice can bring.

One morning she is down in the weapons hold alone when Anna wanders in.

“You're a natural.” she tells Elsa, “You could beat anyone you wanted to – not that I'm saying you do want to, but, you know, you're getting really good.”

Elsa chuckles to herself, “Thank you. Maybe I could take a ship to the Western Isles and knock King Frey's head off his shoulders.”

“I'm sure that would solve the problem.” Anna replies, amused.

“What if it would?” Elsa muses quietly, ideas abruptly ticking inside her head. “What if we attacked them?”

“What?”

Elsa turns to face her sister, excitement suddenly gleaming in her eyes, “They don't think I'm fit to rule, nothing I can say is going to change their minds. But what if we invaded? Showed them all just how strong Arendelle is?”

“You can't be serious.” the mirth had disappeared from Anna's tone, “Elsa... the Western Isles have allies, you – you could start a war.”

“They wouldn't stand a chance against us!” Elsa exclaims, “Look what I can do if I put my mind to it, Anna.” she gestures around at the broken targets littering the floor, “Think how much better I could become! No one else would be able to match us!”

Anna takes a step back, bow creasing in concern, “Elsa, this is crazy.”

“Is it? This is just the beginning, Anna. You think the Western Isles is the only country that's wary of me? There are others just waiting for an excuse to strike, and I'm tired of being pushed around and judged.” she flings a hand out, sending ice spinning down the concourse and burying into the opposite wall, clouds of brick dust swirling into the air.

“Elsa...” Anna stammers, suddenly looking nervous, “You can't really think this will solve anything – You'd just be buying into their fears about you. And what about Arendelle? How do you think everyone here would react to you starting a war over nothing? You could lose everything.”

“I could lose everything anyway.” Elsa snaps, “Wake up Anna, people already think I'm dangerous. Not everyone was convinced that my “little stunt” thawing Arendelle means I couldn't snap again at any time.”

Anna gapes at her sister for several seconds, then says quietly, “You're worried they're right, aren't you? That's why you're so desperate to prove how in control of your powers you are.”

“Don't be absurd.” Elsa shoots back, turning away from Anna.

“If you attack the Western Isles you'll just be proving them all right!” Anna exclaims, taking half a step forward, “You can't seriously be thinking about this.”

“What's the alternative?” Elsa retorts angrily, “Let the Western Isles cut trade lines? Let all our allies turn on us and push us around? I'm not going to be the Queen who just lies back while her country is ruined, Anna!”

“This isn't the answer!” suddenly Anna is yelling, “Violence isn't going to get you anywhere except into deeper trouble, I thought you'd realised that!”

“Really, because it's what's been keeping me away from myself!” furious, Elsa shoves a sleeve up, revealing the faded cuts along her arm that showed how long her skin had gone untouched. The sight made Anna flinch, but Elsa was too fired-up to care. “It seems to have solved one problem rather well, I wouldn't be so quick to condemn it.”

Anna stares back at her, eyes hard, “I'm not so sure.” she remarks, “You were never this angry before you started doing this.” she throws a hand out, indicating the broken wood and brick surrounding them. “Maybe you've just replaced one problem with another.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm sorry Elsa.” Anna tells her, all the energy drained from her voice, “I lead you to this. I thought I was helping you–”

“Don't do this Anna.” Elsa pleads, “I feel fine. I'm coping, alright? This is working for me.”

Anna stares at the opposite wall in silence for a long moment, then asks, “Are you serious about attacking the Western Isles?”

“Maybe.” Elsa says.

“Then it _isn't_ working for you.” Anna replies icily, “This isn't you. My sister would never use violence as a first resort.”

“Oh grow up Anna!” Elsa explodes, “I'm Queen, I'm responsible for Arendelle and all it's people. Sometimes sacrifices and difficult decisions have to be made, that's just how it is.”

“Are you going to call me naïve again?” Anna inquires. Something about the tired note in her voice quiets the anger burning in Elsa.

“No, I'm not.” she replies, crossing her arms across her stomach.

“This isn't you.” Anna repeats, not looking at Elsa, “And I think you can't see that because your just relieved your not hurting yourself any more. But giving in to anger like this is wrong. And it's not going to make anything better.” she turns and begins walking out of the weapons hold. At the door she pauses, back still to her sister. “I'm sorry Elsa. This one's my fault.”

Elsa turns away, hearing the door click shut. _One step forward, two steps back. One endless circle._

How did everything she tried to do inevitably lead to this moment – Alone and angry and burning with guilt? She was so sure she wasn't wrong. But when had Anna ever not been right about something like this?

Elsa had spent her whole life failing; she'd failed as a daughter, failed as a sister, and now she was failing as a Queen. _But what if I could succeed as a soldier, as a weapon?_

She thinks back to the day of The Great Thaw – she only time she could remember using her powers to fix rather than destroy.

_I thought I was moving back to that._

_What if I'm still moving away?_


	13. The First Time In Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes all other options have to be exhausted and trials endured before a solution can be found.

It had been weeks since Elsa had lost control. Under the instruction of the Captain of the Palace Guard her magic was more honed than it had ever been – she never missed a target any more and was graduating from shapeless icy missiles to formulated weapons crafted to mimic that of Arendelle's army. She was fast becoming nigh unstoppable.

So why did she feel so powerless?

_One endless circle._ No control at all, to mastery at the expense of her own safety, to power that filled her sister's eyes with disgust. There was always something to fear.

Elsa knew that starting a war would be a bad move, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it would _work_. Violence had always worked for her, in one form or another.

_No. Violence isn't the only way, it's just the easiest._ She repeats the thought to herself over and over, hammering it home in the hope that it will stick, if only for a fraction of a second.

All those years that she'd spent locked in her room, dreaming of the day she could rejoin the world, it had never gone like this. She'd envisaged herself as a beautiful, generous Queen beloved by her subjects and allies alike; she and Anna tackled every problem together, backed each other at every corner; she was carefree and untroubled, just like she had been so long ago. She _wasn't_ skulking in the basement of her castle, plotting revenge on an enemy she hadn't truly made yet.

_Give me an answer, and I will invariably find a problem._

She needed Anna. Like every obstacle she'd ever faced, she couldn't find a way around this herself. She would never be that useful.

Elsa finds her heart pounding as she wanders the halls in search of her sister. After all their previous fights, Anna had been the one to come around first. _Hardly surprising._ Had she felt the same trepidation that Elsa felt now? Or did making amends come as naturally to her as the rest of life?

It doesn't take her long to locate the young woman – she finds her in the library, gazing out the east window over Arendelle. Elsa hesitates in the doorway, though she knows the clacking of her shoes on the polished wooden floors will have already announced her arrival.

After a momentary pause, Anna speaks without turning round, “Come to research battle strategies?”

The sharpness in her tone makes Elsa cringe. “No,” she replies, “I came to say I'm sorry. You were right.”

Anna sighs heavily and finally turns around. There is a faint redness around her eyes that Elsa recognises all too well from seeing in her own reflection. Her heart twists viciously in her chest. _Why do you do this to her?_

“Changed your mind then?” Anna asks.

“Yes.”

“I knew you were still in there somewhere.” she rewards Elsa with a timid smile.

“I am.” Elsa replies, “I just... I'm not quite sure how to get myself back.”

Anna regards her thoughtfully for a few moments. “I think you're still letting your powers control you.” she says, “We both missed it, but your life still revolves around it. It shouldn't, not when you have so much potential.”

“Love will thaw.” Elsa muses, “That's so easy to forget.”

“What did the trolls tell you?” Anna asks, turning back towards the window, “That time mama and papa took us to them, I mean?”

“Uh...” Elsa thinks back that half-remembered day, walking over to stand next to Anna, “They said that fear would be my enemy. They said that my power held beauty, but also so much danger.” _Danger to me, you, Arendelle... they were right about that at least._

“You have done beautiful things.” Anna comments, “Your ice palace was amazing.”

“Thank you.” Elsa allows herself a small flicker of satisfaction at the memory. That palace had been the only thing she'd ever been proud of.

“And what about Olaf?” Anna continues, “I mean, Elsa, you've created _life._ ”

“I also created that snow monster.” Elsa reminds her, though as an argument it falls completely flat; suddenly all she can think about is the night she'd struck Anna, the dive into the ravine that had only been stopped by the presence of the same monster. _If it hadn't been there..._

“Beauty and danger.” Anna looks at her sister, “You tried channelling your magic one way. What about the other?”

“You think I can gain control by creating beautiful things?”

“How did you feel when you were building your castle?”

The question gives Elsa pause. She had felt good that night. Better than good – powerful, like she could take on the world and win. So different to how she felt now.

“I...” she trails off, but a flicker of triumph scurries across her sister's face.

“It's all about control.” Anna says, “You've just never found the right way. _This_ could be the right way, Elsa. I mean, 'love will thaw' right? What's more beautiful than love?”

“Don't be so sentimental, Anna.” Elsa chastises, though her reprimand carries no weight, and only makes Anna's grin widen.

“I'm the sentimental one, remember?” she tells her.

“Yes,” Elsa agrees with a laugh, “Yes you are. It works better on you than on me.”

“Well, that's what sisters are for: to help each other out.”

Elsa falls silent, and gazes out over her kingdom, sobering slightly. “Beauty is so easily tarnished.” she says thoughtfully, “So easy to lose in the darkness.”

“I know.” Anna replies, “No one's suggesting this will be easy.”

“Nothing ever is.”

“But it will be worth it.” Anna continues, “Aren't you tired of fighting?”

She was tired. She had been tired for years – trudging down a desolate tunnel with no light to guide her and no end in sight. Continuing on because people needed her to be strong. “A rest would be nice.”

_What if this is all too late?_

“It's strange.” Anna says, “As a kid I read almost every book in this library. The ending of the story was always really huge – some big, grand gesture and everything was put right. I guess real life isn't like that.”

“No.” Elsa responds, “In real life happy endings are won through hard work and a lot of luck.”

“Let's hope we have luck then.” Anna muses.

_Luck has never really favoured me_ , Elsa thinks, but she keeps the thought to herself. This would be hard enough without her innate hopelessness getting in the way. “How is this supposed to work?” she asks instead.

“I don't know.” Anna admits, “But before I wouldn't have said that anger could help either. We'll work it out, I know we will.” she looks at her sister, eyes wide and solemn, “I'm so sorry, Elsa. I'm the one who started this, I should never have–”

“Hey.” Elsa cuts her off, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Don't, you have nothing to apologise for. You've helped me so much, Anna, I... I don't know where I would be without you.”

Anna sniffs, glancing at the floor, “Now who's the sentimental one.”

Elsa laughs lightly, “Thought I'd give it a try.”

“I think it works on you.” Anna tells her.

Elsa turns her attention to the window, her smile fading a second later when the booming sound of the clock striking the hour sounds throughout the castle. “I have to get back.” she says, stomach already churning. “Problems to find beautiful solutions to.”

She turns to go, and is halfway out the room when her sister calls out, “Wait. I know you prefer dealing with things on your own, but, you know you can always tell me when your duties are giving you trouble.”

“Anna–”

“I know, I know, you don't want to load me down with anything you don't have to.” the young woman flaps a hand dismissively, “But you never know, I might be able to help, and if not it would at least be good for you to get it off your chest.”

“Maybe.” Elsa concedes, “I'll be sure to let you know the moment the Western Isles invade.” That earns her a dry chuckle form Anna, and she attempts to smile before leaving the room.

_Beauty_. The thought is on Elsa's mind all day. Even when she sits at the head of the council table, struggling to maintain her regal posture while being crushed under the weight of her country's troubles. _So easily tarnished._ _I'm not in the habit of finding beauty, not after living in the shadows for so long_.

In her experience, beauty was a fleeting thing – appearing out of nowhere and dazzling you with it's magnificence, lasting just long enough for your heart to truly know it's joy. Then it was gone again, vanishing into the mist and leaving you aching and empty. Beauty and hope, the two rarest commodities. And the things Elsa needed the most. _Perhaps some people are just not destined for happiness_.

It's not long before she begins yearning for the quick release of pain and aggression; a burst of activity, a sharp strike downwards, and blood was flowing and the heart was pounding and power was seeping throughout her body like a well-fitted suit of armour. She winds up gnawing on her fingers until they are cracked and bleeding and pulling at her hair so hard trails of it come away tangled around her fingers. _I mustn't. I mustn't_.

One day she sneaks out into the forests like she had done so often, but this time with a different intention. Surrounded by curtains of trees on all sides, she curls up on the ground and waits, ears straining in the silence. She'd never seen any of the bountiful wildlife that scurried hither and thither in the undergrowth – yelling and blasting ice in all directions wasn't the way to get acquainted with nature. But now (practically frozen in place and hardly daring to move) she feels the forest come alive around her, bit by bit. Birds whistle from the highest branches and the carpet of leaves rustles with the movement of tiny creatures. Things skitter through the air and run up and down and amongst the plants, hiding and lurking and feasting. In the middle of the cacophony of life, Elsa sits gazing around her in wonder.

It would have done her wonders, had she not suddenly glanced around her and seen it: animals criss-cross and weave and scrap all around... but they keep away from her. She is an island adrift in the middle of chaos, untouched and unwelcome. It hits Elsa like a punch in the chest how very much she doesn't belong. The creatures around her create and multiply and teem with the force of their own existence. _All I can do is destroy._

_Life despises winter. No wonder they stay away from me._

A second later Elsa is stumbling to her feet and crashing back towards the castle, blocking out the sounds around her. It's stupid, she insists to herself, to feel rejected by insects and dumb animals. It meant nothing...

_No. It means everything._

Disgusted with herself, she retreats to the safely unyielding stone of the palace and slumps against the wall. _Don't be so damn sensitive_ , she snaps at herself, knowing that it would be useless. She had never managed to make herself believe her own pep-talks.

For a long time afterwards Elsa is lost. Her search for lasting beauty leaves her cold and empty, every new discovery dampened by her own despair. She seeks comfort in her sister's warmth and smiles, marvelling at how she slides easily into everything that Elsa just cannot get a hold on. She longs to ask Anna how she does it, how she is at one with the entire world, but she cannot bring herself to. What if it is an inborn quality in her vibrant younger sister that she herself will never achieve? Hope is hard enough to come by as it is.

One day, as Elsa is readying for bed, Anna appears in her doorway. “How are you doing?” she asks.

For a brief moment Elsa considers lying, then realises that it will get them nowhere. “Still lost in the dark.” she tells her.

“I'm sorry.” the corners of Anna's eyes crinkle in sympathy.

“It's not your fault.”

“I know, but...” Anna pushes a lock of hair behind her ear, “I just wish there was something I could do.”

“You're already going above and beyond.” Elsa reassures her, with what she hopes is a convincing smile. “To some of us beauty is more elusive, that's all.”

“It shouldn't be elusive.” Anna says, “It's right there in you.”

“What did I say about being sentimental?” Elsa laughs a hollow laugh, trying to bury her gut reaction of _No, no it isn't. Not any more._ Thankfully, Anna seems convinced as she bids Elsa good night and disappears.

_Love will thaw._

“ _What's more beautiful than love?”_

_You can't just manufacture love out of thin air._

What did Elsa love? She loved her sister, more than anything. But Anna was her own person, and could not always be there for Elsa, even if she were willing. Besides, sometimes even Anna was not enough. What else...?

Her ice palace. There was no denying that – the monument at the top of the North Mountain was a work of art, everything Elsa had previously thought impossible. She'd been fond of the skating rink she'd conjured the day of The Great Thaw, as well (gone now, out of necessity). That had been the bridge between her and the people of Arendelle, closing the decades-long divide. She looked back on her distant memoires of conjuring for Anna with a heart-aching fondness.

Yes. When she was fully and effortlessly in control, she couldn't deny that she rather loved her powers. _It's when they go bad, that's the problem._

Maybe, for once, Anna had been wrong. Maybe it wasn't about channelling, about flushing out her magic in the least harmful way possible. Maybe it was about taking the reigns herself...

_There is beauty in your power._

Quietly, Elsa slips out of bed and creeps down the corridor, padding through the castle until she reaches the ballroom. _This is where it all started_. _Maybe it will end here too._

She stops in the middle of the room, and strains to recall the night she'd built her beloved ice castle, the sense of power that had swept through her with every incantation. Then she thinks about Arendelle, her home, and all the years she had spent observing it though her window. _I could see every single street... I used to name them all... fix them in my memory like a promise to myself... “one day”..._

Lifting her arms, she pulls every last scrap of magic up from inside her and propels it through her fingers. The first shots are far too violent, flying into the opposite wall and making her jump backwards. She takes a deep breath and puts all her energy into her arms, tailoring the jets of frost to her purpose, calming them. Her progress is slow, her concentration so narrow that several times she almost slips on the waxed floor. Frost creeps up her arms and covers the ceiling, spidering down the walls, but Elsa refuses to be deterred. Eventually, a huge swath of floor is layered in ice and she directs it upwards – raising it from the ground and bending it to her will.

As she sees her creation begin to take shape, sparks fly in Elsa's mind, reawakening long forgotten joys. _This is how it's supposed to be_. The thought spurs her onward until she can _feel_ herself gaining control: the ice around her moulds and fuses with every brush of her fingers and dances in tune with her thoughts. Intention becomes reality right in front of her eyes and it makes her feel so incredibly alive, like she's finally waking after a long and unwanted slumber.

Her muscles begin twitching and aching in complaint long before she is ready to let go, so she simply pushes past the pain and continues, swirling around the edges of her monument as it fills more and more of the ballroom, climbing to Elsa's waist at it's highest points. When a laugh bubbles up in her throat it doesn't even occur to her to stop it – instead she lets it come, giggling and snorting in far too unbecoming a fashion for someone of her status. _“You're the Queen! What's the point of being Queen if you can't do whatever you want?”_ The memory makes her laugh all the harder – her dear sister may not have all the necessary political knowledge at hand, but she certainly had her priorities sorted.

As time passes and she gains more and more control, she finds herself becoming more adventurous; she carves out detail into her structures, intricate patterns and meaningless words in flowing letters. She becomes so caught up in it that she fails to notice the passage of the moon through the sky, barely registers the sunlight spilling through the windows. She doesn't stop moving and crafting until the door at the far end creaks open and Anna's voice calls in, “Elsa?”

She skids to a halt expertly on the ice, turning to the door. “I'm in here.”

The door pushes all the way open and an unruly mass of red hair appears. “I was just look – Woah, Elsa...”

Anna enters the room properly, gazing in sudden awe at her sister's work. “That's so... I mean... Wow! Is it...?”

“It's Arendelle.” Elsa confirms with a beaming smile. Every street, every alleyway and every market, rendered in as much detail as her memory permitted, sprawls across the ballroom floor. The most enticing thing a young Elsa had known.

“It's incredible.” Anna breaths. Then she glances up at Elsa, “Did it, you know...?”

_Did it help?_ For the first time in hours Elsa comes back to Earth enough to assess herself. The difficulties of getting a proper hold on her powers combined with almost an entire night of exertion has left her with screaming muscles, dizziness and itchy, sweat-flushed skin. But above all that, she realises that the buzzing, desperate energy that had been gnawing at her bones was all but gone. She could sense it on the very edge of her awareness, knowing that it would surely return soon. But right this second...

“Yes.” she tells Anna, spreading her fingers and gazing down at them thoughtfully. “Yes, I rather think it did.”

The smile that her sister greets her remark with rivals the early morning sun in it's brightness, and Elsa cannot help but return it. Then her unavoidable hopelessness resurfaces for a moment, and she adds, “This is only one occasion.”

“I know.” Anna replies, still smiling, “But why shouldn't it work again? Maybe the more you do it, the easier it will be to stay in control. And look at what you _made_.”

Elsa looks down at her kingdom reproduced in ice, allowing herself to realise how artful and beautiful it was. This felt different, somehow, to the relief the cutting and the destruction had brought her. It felt cleaner, more durable. _Is this what real recovery feels like?_

She shakes her head, coming back to the present moment. “I need a bath.” she says, “Then I fear my council will not be kept waiting.”

“Of course.” Anna says.

Elsa regards her thoughtfully, then asks, “Would you like to accompany me to the meeting?”

Anna stares at her, “Really?”

“Of course. You'll have to learn these things eventually, why not now?” _Because one day it might just be you._ She cannot stop the thought occurring (a lifetime hating your very existence made you very aware of your own mortality) but for once she is able to push it aside with very little effort.

Anna is beaming again, “I would love to! Who knows, maybe I'll be of some use. Not – not that I'm saying you can't handle it, but, you know, I might–”

“I'm sure you'll be invaluable.” Elsa smiles indulgently and shoes her little sister off to dress.

It was strange, she muses to herself as she washes away the evidence of her nocturnal excursion: after so long of her life taking wrong turn after wrong turn, it felt almost unnatural to finally have something go right. It wouldn't last, she knew. Nothing ever did. But every puzzle became so much easier when the first piece was in hand, and that piece was as stunning as her creation was.

_I am the Queen of snow and ice, the conjurer of winter. And one day, when I'm fully formed, I'll find my place in the world._


	14. Epilogue: I Finally Understand

Recovery, Elsa discovers, happens much like the breaking of a dam.

It begins in drips – a strange, intangible sense of control; despair banished a fraction more easily; the early morning sunlight lifting the spirits in a way it never had before.

It is a rocky climb over uncharted terrain, and she finds herself taking as many steps back as she does forward. Many nights are spent locked in her sister's arms, dampening Anna's shoulder with her tears and screaming until her voice is horse and scratchy, thoughts fixated on how easy it would be to just give up – return to her old habits and the safety of quiet agony. But the night she'd spent in the ballroom had lit a spark within her that she refuses to ignore, so (dragged along by the ferocious determination in her sister's eyes) she goes in search of that feeling again.

Sometimes it is so easy. Sometimes she feels as though she had spent her life trying to hammer down a door, only to look around her and discover the key lying just within her reach. She turns her powers to both the frivolous and the useful, utilising them in any way she can. She forces herself out of the castle and back among her subjects, making herself known and strengthening ties. She repeats the gesture with her trade partners, making it clear to everyone that her magic can be a force for good, leaving the Western Isles isolated in their disapproval and contempt (that particular strategy had been Anna's doing. The ingenuity had not surprised Elsa in the least).

The image she projects to the world takes its toll, leaving Elsa drained and anxious. The urges to fall once more are never stronger than after conducting ceremonial duties or public events. But her sister (and by extension Kristoff) remain steadfastly at her side and guide her through her darkest hours. They discover a rhythm, after a while, an exchange of encouragement and support that keeps them all on even keels. Elsa never quite manages to shake the fear that it will end with them dragging each other downwards, but she pushes it into the depths of her mind with all the other thoughts she's knows will probably never fade, buries them under her new-found hope and prays that they never resurface.

They take their lives moment by moment, waiting for the dam to break and everything to be swept away. Then one day, Elsa looks up to find Anna's 21st birthday is fast approaching. Her baby sister is coming of age.

The realisation fills Elsa with more than joy than she would ever have expected: after everything that the world had thrown at her, after the ominous shadow that Elsa's curse had cast upon her, here Anna was, standing proud and unbeaten.

_If she can do it,_ she thinks to herself, _then so can I. I owe her that._

Every day after that she reminds herself just why she is there and who she should be looking out for. She goes toe to toe with her demons and, little by little, feels herself beating them back, forcing them into – if not defeat, then at least submission.

Surprisingly, the time the dam breaks is the time she admits to herself that it'll never be like it was when she was little. For so long she'd clung onto the days of innocence and laughter, running in their direction with nothing to guide her. But she would never find them – she'd been too far gone for too long, and she would always live with the spectres of her past. So she lets them go. She whispers goodbye to her childhood and focuses on catching the days still to come, with her now adult sister and a kingdom to call her own. After that, it is somehow easier to navigate her way out of the dark.

Eventually, all but a few of her scars fade away, and Elsa cannot help but regard it as being born again – she chastises herself for the thought, knowing that it is ridiculous, and doesn't dare voice it aloud. But it stays with her, in the back of her mind: the old Elsa, the Elsa who hid away and hurt everyone and turned her vitriol inwards at every opportunity, was dead. She would haunt the new Elsa forever (years down the line she would awake in the middle of the night sweating and shaking, drowning in a helplessness she couldn't define), but she was intangible, and was spirited away by the joys of warm weather or chocolate stolen from the kitchens or an evening arguing playfully with her sister.

Queen Elsa of Arendelle may have been battered and bleeding, but she learned to stand with her head held high, learned to believe a fraction of the compliments Anna threw at her. It wasn't perfect, some days it was barely even good. But it was OK, and that was more than Elsa had previously dreamed possible.

The Ice Queen found her place in the sun, in the end.


End file.
